


Its always me...

by LoveBug515



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alone, Exile, Tommy is Phils bio child, Wings, after his exile, this shows up in unexpected ways >:)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27964502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveBug515/pseuds/LoveBug515
Summary: Tommy didnt want this to happen... but now that it has, Tommy must deal with being exiled, and a few other problems his father has passed onto him.He laughed weakly and spoke in a whisper “Why the fuck is it always me. Why is it me that causes problems. Why is it me that always gets hurt. Why is it me that's always blamed.”
Comments: 15
Kudos: 299





	Its always me...

Tommy ran. Ran trying to go faster. Ran trying to get away. Ran with the thought of Dreams laughter and Tubbo's voice, exiling him. Ran trying not to think about the last time this happened to him. Only this time it was different. This time he was alone. This time, he had a bigger secret. One he didn't know what to do. He had been wanting to ask Phil about it, but then he left and went to find Techno. Tommy didn't know where they were, and he sure as hell wasn't going to stay with Techno. 

Tommy collapsed for a moment, catching himself on his hands, but the jolt of pain went through his arms to his shoulders, and beyond. Tommy shoved himself back up and kept running, but now his back hurt. He had known being Phil’s biological son meant he was different, but- Tommy's back spasmed and sent him to the ground. Tommy shook for a moment before he started trying to get his jacket and shirt off. His jacket went off and then he finally got his shirt off. He laid there, holding himself up using his arms, as he panted. His back still hurt but now that they weren't contained, they felt better. He hissed as a spasm caused them to flap wildly. 

He’d only had them for a bit, about halfway through Pogtopia. He hadn't mentioned it there cause of Wilbur being crazy, and he hadn't mentioned it since, because he didn't want to be another problem on Tubbo’s shoulders. But now- now he wished he had told someone. He didn't know how to care for wings. Phil never taught them how to care for wings, only how to preen them. And Tommy had never thought that he'd need lessons on how to control them.

Tommy shoved himself to sit up and hissed as the wings shifted. He turned his head, trying to catch a glimpse of them. They looked like they stretched from his neck to his waist, but he couldn't really tell without a mirror. Tommy shoved himself to his feet, grabbing his jacket and his shirt. He shoved them into a small bag he had, and continued on. He couldn't run anymore, the wings spasming hurt too much to do more than fast walk. Tommy tried to count his breaths, trying to keep the pain at bay. It didn't work, but it was something to do. Tommy vaguely noticed when he went past Pogtopia, but kept moving. There was nothing left there. Nothing to return to. And even if he did return, Dream and the others would know where he was. That was too much of a risk. It was nearing night when Tommy stumbled across a lake with an island in the middle. Tommy let out a huff, before punching a tree. Each punch made his shoulders ache, but he kept going. Soon he had enough for a boat and a small shelter, so he made the boat to go to the small island. Tommy didn't want to chance trying to swim and have the things on his back weigh him down, or spasm in the middle and cause him to drown. He got to the island in just enough time to create a shelter, before he blocked himself in and tried to breathe. 

Now that he was allowing himself to think about what had happened, he laughed. It started out small, but then got louder, he was cackling, loudly and crazily, before one laugh ended in a sob, and then it was gone. Tommy cried harder than he ever had before. 

He laughed weakly and spoke in a whisper “Why the fuck is it always me. Why is it me that causes problems. Why is it me that always gets hurt. Why is it me that's always blamed.” His fists clenched the fabric of his shirt as he shook with sobs “Why” He yelled “DOES CRAZY SHIT HAPPEN TO ME!” “WHY” He screamed “DO I HAVE TO HAVE WINGS?? WASN'T I ALONE ENOUGH?? WHY DOES EVERYONE LEAVE ME?? WHY AM I SO DISRESPECTFUL??? WHY AM I SUCH A FREAK?? SUCH A DUMBASS??? SUCH A DELINQUENT??? SUCH A CHILD??? SO SELFISH?? SUCH A LIABILITY??? SUCH A DANGER??? SUCH AN IDIOT???” His breath caught and he screamed one last time before breaking down completely “WHY DOES EVERYONE LEAVE ME?” He wailed into the night, feeling like he was falling. Falling far far far, falling away from all of his friends, his family. Everyone had left him. It was like Pogtopia all over again, except this time, he didn't even have his brother.

Tommy woke up bleary eyed, face in the dirt. He sat up before wincing as the wings spasmed. He broke a block to peek out, and when he saw it was clear, crawled out of his shelter.

He stood up, taking a deep breath, and going into resource mode.

Tommy stood looking at the small pile of resources he had. He now just needed a base. Tommy looked around before seeing the perfect place. He ran over to the giant tree, before looking up. There were plenty of sturdy branches, and he could always carve out leaves or even the actual tree itself for more room. Tommy was preparing to make a ladder when he realized something. These wings. If he learned to fly he wouldn't even need to keep the ladder. Tommy grinned and felt the wings shake slightly, feeling like a buzz. It only hurt a little.

\----------------------

Tommy grinned looking down from his treehouse. Well, it was only a platform for now, but more would come later. He had laid down his coat for a bed, and had washed his shirt out in the lake. He now sat staring at his knife and his shirt trying to figure out an easy way to do this. He knew Phil cut slits into his shirts, but Tommy didnt know the exact place the wings met his shoulders. He then decided fuck it, and just cut a big circle in the back of his shirt, on his shoulder blades.

Tommy grunted as he slid the shirt on, but then the wings popped through the hole and Tommy grinned. They buzzed again and Tommy turned to look at them. He giggled lightly, reaching back to touch the wing, and feeling the soft down of the feathers. He knew that he'd have to wait for the other feathers to grow in to actually fly, but that didn't mean he couldn't practice moving them.

\-------------------------------

Tommy took off his shoes and hissed slightly, looking at his feet with wide eyes. They looked somewhat like talons, but still were mostly human in shape. It was weird as hell. No fucking wonder his feet had been hurting jesus christ.

He sighed and set his shoes to the side. Unless he wanted to try and make his own shoes he'd have to go barefoot for a while.

\---------------------

Tommy grunted from the effort of raising his wings and flapping them. His muscles weren't used to moving the wings, and it was painful. It was also painful feeling the feathers come in. He paused for a moment before curling the wings around to look at the progress. He saw that most of the Primaries had come in, along with the primary coverts. Most of the secondaries were also in. He grinned at that. Once they all were in he could start gliding. Start hopping and gliding from small falls so that he could learn how to move the wings to fly and turn and roll and dive.  
\----------------------

Tommy grinned from the top of his treehouse. He puffed his wings up behind him and stared at the clouds. His grin turned even wider, then he flapped his wings once, twice, and then flapped them harder in a deep down thrust. Tommy shot into the air with a whoop. He kept flapping until he was a long distance above the tree, where he glided. He glided in small circles down to the tree again, where he landed, before taking off again. He flew over the lake this time, and looked down at the water. The figure there was one that he almost didn't recognize as himself. He saw the red primaries and secondaries, the white primary and secondary coverts, and the mostly white but red speckled marginal coverts. He saw himself, with more muscle, with new scars, with a new sense of freedom.

Tommy flew lower over the lake, letting his hand down to dip in the water. He giggled lightly before pumping his wings and shooting into the air. He eyed the clouds before grinning even harder, and shooting up towards them, not a care in the world.

\----------------

Tommy huffed as he flapped his wings, trying to find the perfect way to angle them to be able to- AHA!

Tommy managed to hover in place for a moment, before he tipped and started falling with a screech. He quickly righted himself before flying up to try again. His grin was wide and wild. He had done it for a moment, he could do it again.

\---------------------

Tommy laid in the nest he had made, grinning to himself. His wings and shoulders hurt from the day of actual flying, but it was the good kind of hurt. The kind of hurt your muscles get when you work out good. 

Tommy hummed to himself, curling his wings round himself as a blanket. “This is very pog.” He murmured to himself as he yawned, ready to sleep. 

\------------------------

As he slept however, he had no way of knowing that over the nearly a year he had been gone, people had been searching. People had been talking. People had been scheming. All it would take was one message, for everything he built here to come crumbling down.

Tubbo:“Hi tommy, I managed to reverse the exile. Will you come back?”


End file.
